Book 9 Chapter 7

Joan lightly poked at her rations. She really, really missed traveling with Korgron. Teleporting places had been soooooo much faster. She always forgot how slow and boring riding all day could be once she got used to teleporting around.

Still, at least it was better than being carried through a desert wasteland or sleeping to the sounds of monstrous demons trying to tear her to pieces. She still missed her grandmother’s pies. The travel rations were decent, but that was it. At least she didn’t need to worry about overeating with them.

Still, they were almost to Hearth. From there, it was just a quick voyage to Seasrest. Well. Not quick. But still a voyage. Who knew, maybe they’d see some merfolk or even nagas. The prince was even warming up to her, he’d only given her a few dirty looks while they were traveling today.

Joan glanced across the campfire to see the prince opposite her. She’d have to give him some credit, at least. He was nothing like she’d imagined the prince had been as the Hero. Then again, her view of the royal family in general had been pretty negative then. If she wasn’t so certain he’d kill her once he was king, she’d have even warmed up to him a little by now.

As it was, she was hoping she’d be able to ditch him the moment they got to Seasrest.

Joan gave a light yawn before laying back on her bedroll, listening to the flickering flames and the light talking by the campfire. She really did miss the Chosen. Bauteut too, even Qakog. It felt so weird to be on an adventure without--

Her hair stood on end and she sat up, her instincts screaming at her that something was coming. She looked around, but she didn’t see anything.

“Something wrong?” Francis asked, glancing over at her. Garbert’s sour face at being looked away from almost made her laugh, though she bit her tongue and held out a hand for him to stop.

She could feel it. Someone, or something, was watching her. “Lich?” she asked.

There was no response. Was she imagining it? Or was it scrying? Was she--

She heard the snapping of a twig in the distance. Followed a moment later by a furious roar before something massive and angry crashed out from the treeline.

Joan was already on her feet, adrenaline pumping through her body. Guardian Nova appeared in her hand and she swept the tip over the campfire, drawing some of the flame to the blade. She then charged the thing, hesitating only a moment to cast the spell that Bauteut had taught her long ago. The world seemed to turn almost black and white, but she could now see what was attacking them. A troll. A normal troll. Its massive, hulking frame towering over her.

She held up her sword, the blue flame glowing brightly and causing the troll to let out another furious growl, but quickly backing away. She could hear them behind her, scrambling for their weapons.

The troll, however, seemed to regather its courage and take a clumsy swing at her. It was slow, but also very big and she had no choice but to activate her boots in order to dash back fast enough. She stabbed her sword into its hand when it passed by, not even trying to hold onto the grip once it was in. Instead, she just summoned her sword back into her hand a moment later. The blue flames flowed over the troll’s arm, making it howl with pain and fury before taking another swing at her with its other hand.

That hand was suddenly grabbed in chains of shadows, pulled down to the ground. She glanced back and saw Aaron chanting, his right hand held out and wreathed in darkness. A mage, she hadn’t thought any of them were. She dashed in, slashing a shallow gash across the troll’s leg, stepping between them and then stabbing up, into the troll’s back. Her blade sunk deep, sending more blue flames flowing into the troll’s body. She leaped away, using the speed from her boots to put some distance between herself and it.

It wouldn’t last much longer n--

Movement caught her eye. In the trees, she swore she saw a face for a moment. She glanced back a second time, but there was nothing there. The troll roared and pulled its massive hand free from the chains, but it likely wouldn’t be long for this world. The flames were spreading, burning its body away while it roared and thrashed in a violent rage. It snapped the shadow binds, only to have new ones reform and tug it back, away from the camp.

This fight was over. She turned and ran into the woods, after whatever she saw. As much as she would have loved to believe that face was just her imagination, she knew there had to be something else out here. Trolls didn’t just charge at campfires like that.

Actually, in retrospect maybe charging in alone after whatever had caused the troll to charge their campsite probably wasn’t the wisest idea. Her sword appeared in her hand a moment later and she flicked it, causing the flames to disperse. Hopefully whatever was out here couldn’t see in the dark as well as she could.

Finding the trail of the troll wasn’t hard, being a creature the size of a small house allowed it to make quite the impression. Unfortunately, the creature hadn’t come very far. It seemed to have been sleeping a few seconds away from their campsite. She could even see the remains of its prior meal and the deep grooves where its massive frame had dug into the ground in its sleep.

She knelt by its resting place, searching the ground for any sign of something else, but there was nothing. No footprints, no tools, nothing aside from the few tufts of fur and splatters of blood from the troll’s last meal. Certainly no faces in the darkness.

“What are you looking for?” Garbert asked.

“Tracks,” Joan said. “Whatever set that troll after us.”

“It was a troll,” Garbert said. “It was probably attracted to the horses. It--”

“Trolls hate light,” Joan said, eyeing the path the troll had taken to get to its resting spot. Judging by the trail, it had been sleeping for a few days. “It shouldn’t have come after us.”

“And you are an expert at troll behavior?” Garbert asked.

“I’m an expert at a lot of things,” Joan said. “But this wasn’t from the Hero. This one is from the academy. You’d be surprised how often trolls are fought by mercenaries. They don’t like light or crowds, they’ll rarely attack unless driven, they--” A hand on her shoulder made her freeze. She glanced back at Garbert, his eyes narrowed on her.

“You knew this thing was coming,” he said firmly.

“I knew something was coming,” Joan said. “Let me guess, suspicious, right?”

“How?” Garbert asked.

“No idea,” Joan said. “I just… did. I felt like something was watching us. Then it attacked. I--”

Garbert’s grit his teeth and his hand tightened on her shoulder, making her cringe.

“You’re hurting me,” Joan said before trying to pull her shoulder away. He didn’t let her.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” Garbert said coldly. “But I’m not falling for your tricks.”

“Please let me go,” Joan said.

“I don’t believe for one moment you’re the Hero,” Garbert said. “I don’t know how--”

Joan couldn’t take it anymore. Her elbow lashed out and she drove it into his stomach. His eyes went wide and he stumbled back, staring at her. “Enough,” Joan said. “I’m done.”

“Done?” he asked, a hand clutching where she’d hit him. He didn’t wheeze, so she guessed she hadn’t hit him hard enough to really hurt, only surprise.

“I’m done dealing with you,” Joan said. “I thought I could do this, but apparently I can’t.”

“Your deceit?” Garbert asked.

“Your paranoia,” Joan said. “I’m going to deal with this alone. Just keep Francis and Ifrit safe. I’ll find my own way to Seasrest. It’ll be easier if I’m by myself, anyway.”

“W-what?” Garbert asked. “You can’t be serious. You think I’ll just--”

“I don’t care what you think,” Joan said before glancing back at him. “And you just don’t get it. You’re the prince. I’m sure everyone around you treats you like such a big deal. But I have spent so. Many. Lives. With your mother trying to kill me. With the Demon Lord trying to destroy me. With monsters you can’t even imagine trying to rip off my skin and wear it as armor. Which I guess they only tried to do twice but it’s still weird that they tried to do it at all. I just can’t bring myself to care. I want to stop whatever this is. If you want to doubt me? Go right ahead. I don’t care. But if you’re going to get in my way? I just won’t anymore. I don’t care if--”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Garbert ran at her, she could see the anger in his face. The moment he drew his blade. Just like he had the last time they’d sparred each other.

Except she was a lot stronger and faster than she had been then. More than that, she was aware of what he could do, it wasn’t a surprise this time. Compared to Hardwin’s swings, he wasn’t even that fast. Her sword appeared in her hands and she deflected the first strike before countering, stepping in quick and knocking his sword from his grip. She then drove the pommel of her sword into his stomach, sending him stumbling back to the ground.

He stared up at her, his eyes wide with surprise. “How… how did you…”

“The first time we fought you were as slow as could be, I wondered if you’d ever held a sword in your life,” Joan said.

“What?” Garbert asked.

“The hundredth time, I thought the same thing,” Joan said. “You either never tried once there was a Hero around or you hid it. I don’t know which. Last time we fought? You caught me by surprise. I didn’t know what you were capable of. But surprise like that only works the FIRST time, your highness. You fight demons and can hold your own. I’ve fought gods and can’t. But I’ve learned to survive. I’m not going to be killed by you, your family or anybody else if I can avoid it. What I am going to do is leave.” She sheathed her sword and turned, heading back towards the camp.

“Joan, wait,” Garbert said. She ignored him. Seriously, he just tried to stab her, did he really think she was going to stick around? “Please! I’m sorry!”

Joan paused before groaning. Damn it. “What?” she asked, looking back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Garbert said again. “I thought…”

“Don’t,” Joan said. “Just… don’t. I went through this with your mother, I don’t want to go through it with you. I have enough to worry about. Actually, I really don’t anymore. I just… don’t care. You don’t believe me, I don’t even know how I’d prove it to you. I don’t even know if I want to. So just… don’t. Bye.”

“Joan!” Gerbert yelled, but she ignored him. She ignored him even as she took her horse and left.

Though, to her annoyance, she wasn’t able to go very far. Traveling at night was dangerous and the last thing she wanted to do was get her horse hurt because she was feeling annoyed. On top of that, even if the prince wasn’t with her, two of the guard still insisted they come with her. Keeping her safe was apparently the queen’s orders.

She really, really missed traveling with the Chosen. She hoped tomorrow she would be able to truly leave on her own. Perhaps if Oriik was Chase he’d even reveal himself. It’d make everything so much easier if she had a Chosen to run off with.

------

Joan’s eyes opened and she reached for her sword, though she realized after a moment she didn’t need to. There was nothing there. The sun was only just beginning to rise and she had no idea what woke her.

Her body ached all over, though. Sleeping in her armor and equipment was never comfortable, but when she’d been almost killed as many times as she had she’d learned that comfort wasn’t always the most important thing. Their horses looked nervous, though. She didn’t see why. She couldn’t hear anything but the fierce winds, she didn’t see anything and she certainly couldn’t smell anything. A few of the guards were up as well. Nothing seemed--

A branch cracked and fell off one of the trees.

Okay, so it was INCREDIBLY windy. At least now she knew what woke her up. She tried to lay back down to get a little more rest, but the wind only seemed to be getting fiercer by the moment. She looked up and let out a groan.

There was a storm approaching. Today was going to suck. She supposed she should start gathering up what she could before the rain started, but she once again lamented the absence of the Chosen. Searle would have been wonderful here.

Then again, she knew using one of the Chosen as a luggage carrier was a silly thing to do. Even if it was very efficient.

------

Joan wondered just how long she should be petty for. Garbert had drawn his sword on her, so it wasn’t like her anger wasn’t justified. But the sudden storm was making travel all but impossible. As much as she wanted to just jump on her horse and ride off into the distance, she was struggling just to walk like this. While the rain was rather light the winds threatened to knock her off her feet at times. Worse, her horse didn’t like being in the winds any more than she did.

They needed shelter, proper shelter.

She glanced back and sighed. The others weren’t that far behind her. At least the prince seemed willing to give her some space. She idly wondered if he would have actually tried to cut her. He’d looked furious, but she’d never known him to disobey his parent’s orders. Then again, he did a lot of things she’d never seen him do.

She cringed when she heard the crunching sound of a falling tree in the distance. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought it was Myrin making these winds. She really hoped they’d find some shelter before the storm hit fully. If only Thalgren was here, he could have made them a cave to hide in.

“I don’t suppose either of you know where there’s proper shelter along this road?” she asked, yelling over the winds as best she could.

She received nothing but shaken heads. Of course they wouldn’t.

------

It was getting worse. The winds were kicking up the dirt, making it drive at them with every step. She’d never seen winds like this, outside of deserts. If not for the trees they passed, she might have even suspected they were in a desert, the winds seemed almost golden at times.

There was no way this was natural. She’d never seen winds like this before. At least, not without an accompanying rain or hail storm to go with it. While there had been rain, it was so light she could barely feel it in comparison to the winds pounding them. The flapping of her cloak was so loud she could barely hear herself think. If it wasn’t natural, if something was making the winds, why hadn’t they attacked yet? Were they building up to something? Waiting for their guard to drop?

She glanced up at the sky. The clouds above were dark and ominous, yet it was barely raining. It should have been pouring. Why--

As if in response to her thoughts, the skies seemed to open up and it was as if a lake had fallen on her. She stumbled back and had to cling to her horse to keep her balance. “Well… this sucks,” Joan said.

“Lady Duskwin,” one of the guards yelled over the rains. “We must seek shelter!”

“Where?” Joan yelled back. “Do you know where any is? Because if so, please, feel free to direct me!”

A cracking boom from above stopped any response she might have received. Lightning. Great. She sighed and looked back towards the others. She could barely make them out. She supposed it was time they all joined up again. Annoyed or not, there was no way she could--

Joan could barely make out something small fly out of the trees and embed itself behind two of the other group. Then a person in a dark green cloak seemed to appear behind them, before reaching out and grabbing one of the two. She heard Ifrit give a loud, startled shriek and the other cloaked figure turned, but it was too late. The figure threw a knife towards the woods.

Joan could make out a strange, red mask through the rain. Old memories flashed through her mind and she took off after the knife, while the others moved towards the figure.

------

Owain sighed, staring out at the city from his room’s balcony. His eyes felt heavy, but the music from below was oddly soothing. He could have almost--

He heard a thunk behind him and turned in time to narrowly avoid a dirk from a strange, cloaked figure. The figure’s face was hidden behind a red, demonic mask and their body beneath the cloak was covered in bandages. Owain’s sword was in his hand a moment later, with which he parried the dirk and tried to cut down the figure. As he struck, the figure threw a knife, but it went past his head and embedded in the wall behind him.

His blade hit empty air and a moment later he felt a dirk at his back. He managed to move enough to avoid a grievous wound, but when he turned to slash, the figure was already moving. Their speed wasn’t anything compared to his, but they seemed to almost be predicting his every move. Worse, on the narrow balcony he couldn’t get a proper shot at the assassin without destroying the balcony itself.

An opening came when the figure threw another knife. This time he paid attention to it and saw the small, red gem on the base. He turned to see it embed in the wall. The figure teleported with it…

And he was ready. His elbow struck their face, knocking the mask askew. They tried to reach up to grip the mask, but it was too late. His blade cut them in half a moment later.

He took no satisfaction in it, though. Just another assassin. This one had a fancier trick than some, but in the end they were all the same. None could ever hope to stand against the Hero.

------

Joan activated her boots, dashing forward. She slammed her shoulder into a tree and bounced off it, shaking her head and then triggering them again. It cost her a few bruises, but she managed to outpace the knife. She slashed out with her own sword, hitting the tip of the dagger and making it spin in the air for a moment before hitting the ground. The assassin and Ifrit appeared a moment later. She couldn’t cut with the assassin holding Ifrit, so she did the next best thing. She punched the mask so hard it made her hand hurt.

The assassin let Ifrit go and stumbled back, giving her the opening she needed. She rushed them--

And they disappeared, her blade striking empty air.

“Come on!” Joan yelled. They hadn’t even THROWN a knife that time. She looked around, but she didn’t see any sign of them. “Damn it!”

“W-what was that?” Ifrit asked, crumbling to her knees. “They just, where were they? How?”

“Assassin,” Joan said. “Or kidnapper, I guess.”

“Ifrit!” Francis yelled, though she could barely hear him over the fierce winds.

“Over here!” Joan yelled. She knelt down and picked up the knife. It held a red gem, but it seemed incredibly dull. Whatever magic allowed it to teleport the assassin apparently having been expended. She’d have to find out if there was a way to nullify that spell and, once more, mentally screamed at the Hero for his lax attitude about everything. He’d killed the assassin, so of course he never tried to find out anything more about their abilities or how to counter their stupid teleporting knives.

… Oh, who was she kidding. There was never enough time to figure out everyone who tried to kill her when she was the Hero. Now she just had to figure out how to deal with this one before it got out of hand.